


Rip-Paint

by JustAndrea



Category: Penn Zero: Part-Time Hero
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-18 15:51:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8167526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAndrea/pseuds/JustAndrea
Summary: After one too many F’s, Penn decides to give Rippen a little challenge and commissions him to paint something for him - to show him what exactly an ‘A-worthy work of art’ is, and ends up seeing a new side to his part-time nemesis.





	

“…” Honestly, by this point, Rippen should’ve been used to this nonsense. He knew that giving it attention would only make him more likely to do it again. And yet… “And just what is this week’s mess all about?”

More amused than offended, Penn smirked. “Well, you did say do a still life drawing of fruit. And that’s fruit, just not the kind you gave us. Just an ‘artist’s interpretation’.”

“Hmph, as if you could be an artist,” the part-time villain mumbled as he glared at the painting. Said fruit was anything but normal. Some things, like the blue grapes and the pink apples, just had their colors changed. Other fruits in the painting looked like some sort of monstrous hybrid between two or more fruits, or like a fruit from some alien planet. And some fruit just had a pleasant face on it, no doubt referencing the time they all went to the Fruit Dimension. 

Too annoyed to look at it anymore, Rippen quickly wrote an F on Penn’s grade sheet and gave it to him before moving onto the next student’s project.

“Tough break, dude,” Boone commented, “For the record, I think your painting looks delicious.”

“Thanks Boone.” Since he had been expecting the F, Penn wasn’t too torn up about it. Though, just because he accepted it didn’t mean he thought it was fair. In fact…

“Too flat… The shadowing’s off… Brushstrokes are too thick…” Even the students who followed the assignment instructions to the letter were given failing grades. Penn scowled. 

“It may not be fair, but it’s not like there’s anything we can do about it here,” Sashi told him. Maybe in other dimensions they could fight him, but in this one? They were unfortunately pretty powerless. 

“Besides, with the way he grades, I don’t think it’s even possible to create an A-worthy painting,” Boone added.

“Yeah, apparently not.” At least, for them it was impossible. Although… He glanced back over at Rippen, and smirked a bit. “Hmm… Give me one sec, guys.” 

Rippen had just finished grading everyone and, just as he had been expecting, he hadn’t been impressed by any of his student’s work. What a miserable way to end the week, but at least he would have a mission - and a possible win! - to look forward to later. 

“Say, Rippen?”

He paused and looked up from his clipboard, though didn’t turn around. “You should know by now that all grades are final.”

“Trust me, I know,” Penn replied, leaning against his part-time nemesis’ desk now, “I was just thinking, all the kids here have never painted something that was worth an A, right?”

“Not even close to A-worthy.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Penn mumbled, rolling his eyes slightly before continuing, “Well I was just thinking, _maybe_ it because they’ve never seen an A-worthy painting before. Maybe they just need an example to work off of, _and_ who better to provide that example than are ‘oh so great’ art teacher?”

Rippen finally turned around to face him, giving him a flat look. “Oh, I see what you’re trying to do. You’re trying to challenge me and see if you can get me flustered, or to see if I have the talent to back up my criticisms. Well, I’ll have you know that I don’t have _anything_ to prove to a fourteen year old boy. Nice try.”

“Okay then, Ol’ Rip, maybe I can get you to want to do it too,” Penn argued, “Instead of just a challenge, let’s make it a- a-” What were those things called again? “Commission! Yeah, that’s it, let’s make it a commission!”

Rippen raised an eyebrow. “You’re seriously going to pay me for this?”

“If it’ll make you put _your_ money where your mouth is, yes.”

“My starting price is fifty dollars.”

“Wait, what?!” Penn exclaimed, “That’s crazy!”

“Actually, it’s the standard price for most people,” Rippen argued, “And don’t try to tell me that you don’t have any money, because I know the old lady at the theatre has to be paying you at least as much as Phil’s paying me.”

Penn scowled.  He didn’t want to back down, but fifty dollars was still a pretty high price! “How about thirty?”

“Forty.”

“Thirty-five, and I promise not to tell Phyllis that you called her old.”

“…Deal.” Penn smiled while Rippen just continued to scowl. “Just come over to my apartment at 8:30 am sharp and I’ll get started on it.” Normally he wouldn’t start a project on a weekend, but they had Monday off because of a holiday, so that would be enough time. 

The part-time hero blinked. “Wait, why your place?”

“Because the school will be closed, and there’s no way I’m going back to your aunt and uncle’s house!” Not after that disaster of a guardian-teacher meal! 

Penn grimaced. He still had stains on his best sweater. “Good point. Fine, your place it is.” Just then, the bell rang, and since he figured the conversation was over, Penn quickly headed out the door to catch up with his friends. After all, they had a mission to get to. 

But for once, Penn’s mind wasn’t completely on the mission, and instead focused a bit on what would happen after it. This would certainly be an interesting weekend…

()()()()()()()()()

Honestly, while Penn knew where Rippen’s apartment was and what it looked like from the outside, he still wasn’t sure what to expect. Once he saw it though, he was both surprised and unsurprised.

The apartment wasn’t as gloomy or threatening as he though it would be, and it certainly wasn’t colorful or light either. It was just… average. Walls were bare with either a dull beige or a flat green paint, and a dark green carpet covered most of the floor. The blinds, of course, were closed and only allowed for a bit of natural light to shine through and mix with the light from ceiling lamp. The furniture, while old, wasn’t exactly fancy either (something he thought someone like Rippen would have). In fact, it just looked like something he got at some thrift store. Was he strapped for cash, or did he just not care how his apartment looked? He supposed that when you’re an aspiring villain hoping to become the new, permanent threat of some other dimension, the latter would make sense. 

But the apartment certainly wasn’t the most surprising thing. Penn glanced back at Rippen, unable to help but stare at him. He was wearing a sweatshirt with some sort of college logo on it, brown pants that looked fairly worn but were still free of stains or holes, and white house slippers. Despite all the other forms he had seen Rippen take in their dimension hopping - a giant octopus man, various aliens, a gingerbread man, even a tennis racket - Penn still considered this look the strangest.

Rippen gave him a glare as he shut the door. “What? I’m not allowed to dress casually on the weekends?”

“Didn’t think you could be casual,” Penn mumbled as he sat down on the couch, waiting for Rippen to get out his easel and other art supplies. 

Once he was all set up, Rippen looked back at Penn. “Alright, what do you want?”

“…Huh? Wait, I thought the artist chose what to draw?”

“Usually, but you’re the one who’s ordering the commission. So hurry up and decide what you want me to paint!”

He knew Rippen would immediately reject any ideas that were too crazy or ‘silly’. And besides, he was always telling them to do still life - landscapes and portraits and all that stuff. “Okay, a portrait of me, then?” he shrugged.

“Fine,” Rippen agreed. Easy enough. He adjusted his easel so that he was now right in front of Penn. “Stand up.”

“Huh? Why?” “If you want me to paint you, I need to see which pose I’m going to use, now stand up!”

“Alright, alright.” Penn stood up. “…Cross your arms.” He crossed them, and Rippen stared at him for a moment. “Hmm… Uncross them.” Penn obeyed. “Sit down again.” Penn was scowling slightly now, and was starting to get annoyed. “Cross your arms.” Penn crossed them. “Hmm…. Uncross them and stand up again.”

“Oh come on! Make up your mind already!”

“I’m just trying to figure which pose will work the best,” Rippen argued, though was unable to hide his smirk.

Penn gave him a flat look. “You’re just enjoying being able to tell me what to do, aren’t you?” 

“Oh undoubtedly.”

Thankfully, it didn’t take too much longer for Rippen to figure out a pose for Penn - standing up with one hand on his hip - and start sketching. “I always like starting out with at least a rough sketch first,” he explained before Penn could ask.

“Makes sense,” he commented, “So… How long do you think this’ll take.”

“Several hours,” Rippen answered, “And if you’re going to complain about it then you can just leave now and we can forget about it entirely.”

No way was Penn going to back out now. And besides- “I’ve had to endure worst things,” he retorted, remembering the time his aunt and uncle made him watch a three part documentary on chinchillas, “I’ll be fine.” 

“We’ll see. Now stop talking, and stand still,” the part-time villain (and artist, in this case) told him as he continued to sketch. 

()()()()()()()()

Penn’s hand twitched slightly. His legs and feet were starting to hurt, and his face was starting to get sore from the small smile he was holding. He was sure Rippen noticed. After all, the guy looked at him every few seconds as he continued to sketch and (eventually) paint. 

There was no clock nearby, but Penn was certain it had been at least a few hours, and yet it seemed like Rippen hadn’t even thought about taking a break. In fact, he hadn’t said anything.

“…So, uh-” “What did I say about talking?” “You can’t seriously expect me to just stand here silently for a whole day, can you?”

Rippen paused, and gave him a flat look. “Expect? No. Hope? Yes.”

“Yeah well, how about we take a break or something?” Penn asked as he returned the look, “Or at least let me see how it’s looking so far.” 

“No, and don’t bother asking again,” he said sternly, “I don’t let anyone see my work before it’s finished.”

“…So it’s not just a hobby,” Penn said after a moment, “You really do paint things for people sometimes?”

Rippen paused, perhaps taking a moment to scold himself for saying anything. “Larry’s commissioned me a few times, but that’s all. I’d say that’s hardly considered a job. Therefore, it _is_ just a hobby.”

“If you say so…” Just then, they could hear a phone going off in Rippen’s bedroom, but Rippen made no move to go get it. “…Uh, Rippen? Someone’s calling you.”

“I can hear that, I do have ears after all,” he retorted, dipping his brush again, “If it’s anything important, they’ll call again later. I’m busy.”

Penn blinked. So… “This is how you normally paint something? You don’t take any breaks?”

“I don’t need breaks,” Rippen answered, not even looking up from the canvas, “What I _need_ , is to finish this. And if I stop while I’m in the middle of painting a certain spot, it’ll dry and then when I add onto it, it won’t look right!” 

“Wow…” Penn honestly wasn’t sure if he should be impressed by that, or call it crazy. 

“Besides, it’s only been an hour and a half.” “What?!” Rippen cracked a smirk. “The offer for you to forget all this and forget your little ‘commission’ is still on the table. …Just admit you deserved the F and we’ll call it good.”

“No way.” He scowled at him for a moment before straightening up slightly, smiling once more. If Rippen could go without breaks, then so could he!

()()()()()()()

_…. *growl* …._

Rippen paused for a moment, but didn’t say anything. 

_…. *gr-growl* …._

He tightened the grip on his paintbrush, but still said nothing.

_…. *grrrrrrowwwwwwwlllll-*_

“Oh for goodness sake, boy!” Rippen shouted suddenly (making Penn flinch in surprise), throwing his arms down, “Just go get yourself a sandwich or something!” He couldn’t stand that stomach growling any longer!

“But don’t you need me here to-?” “I’ll work on the background in the meantime, now just go!” 

Penn didn’t bother arguing, especially since it meant sitting down for a bit. But before he could head to the kitchen, they heard the door unlock and open. “Hey Rippen! You weren’t answering my calls so I just wanted to make sure-” 

Larry stopped, seeing his friend with his easel and art supplies, and smiled. “Ohhhh I get it now. Doing another painting, huh?” He also noticed who else was there. “And it’s of Penn? That’s so nice! Heh, trust me Penn, you’re gonna love it!”

“Principal Larry?” So he’d seen Rippen paint before too? “So, Rippen’s really painted things for you?”

“Yep!” Larry chirped, proud of this fact, “Every once in a while, I tell him what I need painted, pay him whatever he wants, and he comes back to me in a few days with one of his masterpieces!” 

“Huh,” Penn smirked, “Masterpieces?” That had to be Larry exaggerating. Rippen’s art couldn’t be THAT good. …Could it?

“Well yeah! Why else would I hire him as the art teacher if he couldn’t make great art? Well, that and, who wouldn’t want to work with their best friend at _both_ of their jobs?” Rippen just rolled his eyes, choosing to stay silent behind his easel and continue working. 

“Yeah! You should see the one he did of Tony! He really captured his adorableness!” 

This time, Rippen couldn’t help but groan at the memory. That elephant had been the worst model he’d ever had! “I could barely paint him, he was always moving! I had to wait until he finally got to sleep just to sketch him!”

“Aww, he just likes to play with you!” Larry argued, “And you were able to draw him perfectly in the end!”

“You got any pictures of it?” Penn asked.

The principal/part-time minion shook his head. “Nah. But you’re better off seeing a Rippen piece in person anyway.” Just then, Penn’s stomach growled again, but Larry didn’t mind at all. “I was just thinking that it was nearly lunchtime! I can cook us something, and it won’t even take that long!” 

“Just remember to clean up afterwards, Larry,” Rippen told him, “And be careful not to burn anything this time.” Penn blinked, surprised that Rippen would even let Larry cook in his kitchen. Then again, if he refused to leave his easel, then he couldn’t exactly stop him.

“I know, I know,” the shorter man said with a wave of his hand as he led Penn to the kitchen, “Don’t worry.” Once they were there, Penn found the nearest chair and sat down, sighing in relief.

“Heh, yeah, it’s not easy bein’ a model,” Larry chuckled as he started getting out various ingredients (Penn hoped he was a better cook than his aunt and uncle), “There was this one time, I had to model for this magazine. And it seemed easy enough, but their studio was HUGE! All full of cameras and clothes! Heh, I got lost in there for like an hour, and when I finally found my way to where the photo shoot was, it was over and they were working on a different one involving shoes! Have you ever tried wearing heels before? Or maybe they were wedges. But a wedge could still be considered a kind of heel, so-”

“Larry,” Penn said suddenly, not wanting to get stuck listening to another one of Larry’s ramblings, “Uh, maybe we should just concentrate on cooking and eating so I can, you know, get back to modeling.”

“Oh, good idea!” Larry nodded, focusing back on the food, “I’m sure Rippen’s glad to be painting something this weekend. He usually doesn’t do it unless someone asks him to. Although, there have been a couple times where I’ve came over and he’s in the middle of painting something just for him.”

“Really?” Penn asked, almost in disbelief.

“Yeah! I’ve never gotten to see any of those completed, but I’m sure they’re just as good as his others.” Larry smile softened a bit. “Yeah… I’m sure he has a lot of fun when he gets the time to paint something.”

“Huh, doesn’t really seem like it,” the part-time hero mumbled. Rippen didn’t exactly smile while he was painting, or even look that happy about it. Penn would’ve figured that Rippen considered painting to be a chore, something he only did when he needed money. 

“Well, maybe it’s not as fun as being a part-time villain,” Larry added, “But I’m sure he still has a little fun with it. Why else would he paint for himself sometimes?” Penn said nothing, not having an answer to give. “Now, I wonder if Rippen’s still got some garlic toast and vinegar around here somewhere…”

()()()()()()()()

Once they finally got Larry to leave, it had been another couple hours of complete silence - and after listening to story after long, unending story, the silence was definitely appreciated. Though as nice as silence could be, it had to be broken eventually.

“…So, what got you into art anyway?” Penn asked, still making sure to keep the rest of his body still as Rippen continued to paint, “What made you start painting?”

“I needed an elective to take in school, and art seemed like the least annoying,” he answered simply, “It had structure and rules, a long history, and yet it still seemed simple enough.”

“Did you actually enjoy it?”

“…I can admit to enjoying it a little, yes.”

“Huh.” Penn smiled a bit. “So you actually do like something other than evil. How about that.” Rippen just rolled his eyes. “So you’ve been painting ever since?”

“Only occasionally. It’s so time consuming that if I did it all the time, I wouldn’t have any time for anything else.”

“Yeah, and you’d probably drop dead from lack of food or sleep.”

“That too,” he nodded, not even bothering to argue that. This was the way he painted, and he wasn’t going to change that now, “Besides, as I said it’s just a hobby, nothing more. It’s like you and that obnoxious dancing of yours. You wouldn’t want to do that all the time, would you?”

“I dunno, you seemed to enjoy it the one time you actually tried it,” Penn retorted. When Rippen gave him a death glare for that one, he decided to move onto the second part of his statement. “And I don’t know, it might be fun to do as a job. Be a dance instructor or a dancer in a musical or something. I mean, I know you’d probably think it was a waste of time but… I don’t know, it could be fun.” 

Rippen continued to paint, but took his eyes off the canvas. “A job like that wouldn’t exactly leave much time for part-time heroing.”

“Yeah, well…” This time, Rippen stopped completely, looking pretty surprised. “Hey, I’m not saying I’m going to quit anytime soon! I love being a part-time hero and being able to be an awesome team with my friends! But, I mean… I only took the job because Phyllis needed me to. But once she gets my parents back to this dimension, they’ll probably want their jobs back, right? And if Phyllis doesn’t need me anymore, well, it might be nice to see what other jobs are like, you know?”

“…Hmph, I suppose.” Rippen went back to painting, mumbling under his breath, “Just when I thought you and I couldn’t be anymore different.”

Penn caught that, but smiled a little. “Heh, guess you’re not quiting anytime soon either.” Knowing Ol’ Rip and how stubborn and determined he could be, he wouldn’t stop until he either finally won and became a full-time villain, was forced to retire, or died on the job.

…Penn decided not to focus on that last one, despite all that Rippen had put he and his friends through. 

Minutes flew by. Another hour passed, then two. He could see through the small cracks in the blinds how dark the sky was getting, and it was hard just to stay awake. 

Though, when his eyes weren’t threatening to close, Penn couldn’t help but watch Rippen. He was completely focused on his work, despite his own stomach growling and the fatigue in his face. His yellow eyes were wide, intense like- 

Like when they were in the middle of a mission. Intense, determined, calculating his next move, and most of all, wide awake. Penn could even see a small sense of enjoyment in them, as if every brushstroke was a step closer to a personal victory. This wasn’t a mission, but it was still something he cared about doing right - something he knew he could succeed in, given his own skills and experience, but still something he worked hard to do right. Of course, in the grand scheme of things, it was still a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. So even if they didn’t see eye-to-eye on most things, Penn could still give him a bit of respect for that, surprisingly.

“…Huh.” Rippen glanced up at him. “Oh, uh, nothing.” 

The villain/artist went back to painting, and Penn could feel his eyelids start to droop again. Come on, stay awake! Rippen was nearly done with the painting, right? He could stay awake for that little bit of time. After all, he had accomplished much harder things before, so he could easily do this! …He just need to rest his eyes for a moment, or five…

There was a small _*foomph*_ , making Rippen look up again - and he almost couldn’t believe the sight he saw. His so-called part-time nemesis had fallen asleep right on his couch! Though, he still had one hand on his hip, but his legs and his mind must’ve finally given way.

“Hmph,” Rippen scoffed, “Unbelievable…” Well, at least he had already finished all the details on Penn’s face and upper body, so at least the past several hours weren’t wasted. Now he just needed to finish up a few more things…

Soon enough, Penn awoke, his mind reminding him of what he was supposed to be doing. But by that point, Rippen had finished (apparently) and Penn was in the room alone. “Geez, hope it’s not past midnight or something, or Aunt Rose will probably ground me for a week…”

As he stood up and stretched, he couldn’t help but be curious about what was on that canvas that had been hidden away from him for practically the whole day. “Well,” he said with a small smile, “It is finished, and I did pay for it, so I have the right to see it.” Not wasting another second, he walked over to the painting, and-

His jaw dropped. It… It was _amazing!_

Penn rubbed his eyes, just so he was certain this wasn’t just a trick on his eyes. But it wasn’t, the painting was just that good! The colors, the details, the shadows and light, the wrinkles in his clothes, the shine of his MUHU, the strands of his curly hair, everything! It- “It looks like he just took a picture of me!” It barely looked like a painting, it was that realistic! It took getting really close to the canvas just to see the brushstrokes. “I just, I-I can’t believe it!”

“Hmph. I told you I didn’t need to prove myself.” Penn turned around and saw Rippen, still in his casual clothes but now with a glass of red wine in his hand.

“Yeah, no kidding!” Penn told him as he looked back at the painting, still in disbelief.

Rippen gave him a curious look, taking a small sip of his drink before asking, “You’re not going to try and nitpick it, just to ‘give me a taste of his own medicine’, as it were?” 

 Penn gave a small chuckle. “Heh, nah. As fun as that would be, I’ve gotta accept when I’m wrong. And this painting does look really great. …Besides, I don’t think I could find anything to nitpick about it even if I wanted to.”

“…Well, I’m big enough to admit that it’s not perfect. Some of the lighting and shadows could’ve used a bit more work, and I’d still say that I didn’t get your hair quite right.” He scoffed. “Talk about a nightmare! Though I supposed I shouldn’t care too much, considering you don’t even care how it looks in real life.”

“Hey!” Penn shouted, actually taking a bit of offense to that, “I care how it looked! And my hair looks great!”

“It looks ridiculous! So curly and poofy, it looks like you just rolled out of bed!”

“Yeah well, no offense Rip, but I don’t think I’m going to take hairstyle advice from a guy who’s hair looks like something a mad scientist would have.”

“Grrrr, I’ll have you know that this style is very attractive and is thought of as dignified by plenty of people!”

“Hey, whatever you say,” Penn smirked, looking at the painting some more. That’s when he finally noticed it. “…There’s no signature?”

“I never sign my work,” Rippen stated, taking another sip, “And Larry’s been instructed to tell anyone who asks that his paintings were done by Anonymous.”

“Seriously?” Penn asked, looking a bit confused, “Cause, you seem like the guy who would always want credit for the things he makes.”

“Oh, and have my reputation as an artist overshadow my reputation as a villain? No thank you.”

“But, why don’t you just be artist?” Penn questioned, “I mean, we established why you can’t paint all the time but, why not sell your stuff to museums and focus on being an artist instead of a villain? You’re really good at it, and you’ve gotta enjoy it a little! So why…?” He just didn’t understand.

Rippen however, had an easy answer for him. “Because I don’t want to. Just because you’re good at something doesn’t mean you want to devote your life to it.” He took one last sip, finishing off his glass. “And it’s not as if I’m wasting my talents. I simply choose to use them when I feel like it, or when I absolutely need to. Besides, I don’t need to be known by people as a great artist if I already know it myself.” He needed people to instead know that he was a great villain and a powerful, evil man that ought not to be messed with. That was the career he aspired towards, what he wanted to be with all his heart even if it wasn’t the easiest choice, and he certainly wasn’t going to change his mind anytime soon. 

“…Well, if that’s what makes you happy,” Penn shrugged, though he understood. Maybe he didn’t agree, but he did understand. 

“Now, I’d suggest you pay me for my work and leave,” Rippen told him, “and I would also suggest that you don’t show this painting to anyone.”

“Kinda ruins the point of all this-” though Penn knew that example to work off of or not, no student in Rippen’s class would ever get higher than a C-minus if they were lucky- “But alright, fair enough.” He got out his wallet, and gave Rippen several bills.

Taking the painting carefully, he headed towards the door, but looked back with a smirk on his face. “So, guess I’ll see you Monday afternoon for our usual banter and me kicking your butt in whatever dimension we end up in?”

Rippen crossed his arms. “Don’t count on that last part, Penn Zero.”

Penn chuckled. “Guess we’ll just see what happens when it happens.” He opened the door. “But hey… Again, nice job on the painting, Rippen.” And with that, the boy left.

Deciding to leave the rest of his art supplies to clean up in the morning, the part-time villain headed back into the kitchen. Once his glass was in the sink, he took a moment to take the cash he had been given out of his pocket. He counted it, paused, then counted it again. Fifty dollars. 

“…” He smiled, just a little. A job well done, with the pay and praise he deserved. “Just as it should be.” Putting the money in his own wallet, he then changed into his own pajamas and got into bed, with one arm lazily holding his stuffed poodle while his other hand pulled down his sleep mask. 

“Of course, this changes nothing, Penn Zero,” he mumbled, “Nothing whatsoever…” He certainly wasn’t going to go easy on him come Monday afternoon when it was time to fight each other once more. After all, they still had their jobs to do as part-time hero and villain, and no amount of praise, money, or even a temporary silent truce between them, could change that or their rivalry.

Though, admittedly, the memories were still a nice enough thought to fall asleep to.

**THE END**


End file.
